


Like Watching Paint Die

by UppityBitch



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 21:24:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11837331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UppityBitch/pseuds/UppityBitch
Summary: This is written for LaLainaJ. I’m a HUGE fan of your writing and really hope you enjoy your gift! In this story, a quiet day at the museum takes an unexpected turn when circumstances throw together an arrogant hybrid, an intriguing blonde docent, a dark wizard and the captivating artwork of Hieronymus Bosch.





	Like Watching Paint Die

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaLainaJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/gifts).



> Warning: Smutty fun!

_“Art is the lie that enables us to realize the truth.”  
_ ― Pablo Picasso

* * *

 

            Klaus found the sword-wielding skeletal man bursting out of the giant tomato mildly threatening. Although, he wisely recognized that the sparrow-headed man with a funnel perched jauntily on his oversized head certainly was alarming as well. Klaus frowned, realizing that he might still be coming off of a blood-high from that pathetic pack of werewolves that decided to make a move against him in Central Park. It had been an irritating inconvenience having to dispatch enemies on his way to the Met to see the famed Bosch exhibit. The wolves had been gloriously outmatched and Klaus had come out of the slaughter with only a jagged scratch across his cheekbone from an errant claw. A quick sip from a jogger had allowed him to heal instantly, and now he stood in the exhibit admiring some of his favorite pieces.

            A cheerfully exuberant voice broke his concentration and a scowl crept across his handsome face as he turned to compel its owner to go rudely interrupt someone else’s enjoyment of the museum, but he faltered at the vision before him. Golden curls held back with sapphire hair combs, inquisitive blue eyes and delicate pink lips greeted him with nothing more than a disinterested glance and he suddenly found himself straightening his posture as he tried to catch her attention.

            The woman clapped her hands to garner the attention of the small tour group that had gathered and announced, “Welcome to the Hieronymus Bosch exhibit! These extraordinary works are on loan from the Museo Nacional del Prado in Madrid. My name is Caroline and today we will explore this celebrated early Netherlandish painter known for his mesmerizing, imaginative and often gruesome landscapes.”

            She raised her arm to gesture to a painting, causing the silk of her blue patterned dress to rustle pleasantly. Klaus stepped closer, suddenly curious about what this lovely docent thought she knew about one of his favorite artists. “Bosch’s work is best taken in gradually — his micro-portraits of humans, animals, demonic beings and a mish-mash of human-hybrid beasts are all designed to reflect human weaknesses and their ultimate fates as sinners.”

            “You believe that all these ‘human-hybrid beasts’ are evil then, love? It seems a bit simplistic to assume that their purpose is to serve as a cautionary tale and nothing more,” Klaus blurted out, unable to help himself. He noted with delight the way her ivory skin turned a delicate rose as she grew angry. He suddenly could detect the delectable aroma of honey and he was surprised to find his control was shaken to the point that he needed to breathe more shallowly to avoid his hybrid features emerging.

            Caroline shook herself, plastering on a wide smile for the rest of the small tour group and answered brightly, “As with all artwork, the beauty and intent behind each piece is open to interpretation. The lessons that can be learned are vast and limited only by the observer’s imagination. There always has been a mystery surrounding Bosch. While he was famous throughout Europe at the height of his career, little is known about his personal life. There are no letters or journals and only a few records exist that mention him.”

            “What about the municipal records indicating that he belonged to the Brotherhood of Our Lady,” Klaus interrupted with a teasing gleam in his gray eyes, noting the way she huffed in annoyance at having her clearly practiced lecture interrupted once more. He found that he was rapidly becoming addicted to the fire that flickered in her blue eyes as he needled her.

            “Actually, those _are_ the records to which I was referring. Bosch used the name _Hieronymus van Aken_ for legal documents and the Brotherhood lists him by this name as well. Research indicates that his father was an artistic advisor to this prestigious order that revered the Virgin Mary and Bosch became a member in the late 1480s. He appears to have learned his craft during this time, but our knowledge is further complicated as he never dated his work. In fact, only 25 paintings and approximately 20 drawings have been identified as his creations.” Straightening her shoulders, her blue eyes flashed a warning at Klaus that caused his dimples to deepen as he smirked. She quickly turned away from him, addressing the rest of the tour group as she explained the background and religious themes present in _Death and the Miser_.

            “You mentioned his popularity as an artist, love. In addition to his religious patrons, surely wealthy secular patrons at the time would have commissioned Bosch as well? How can you be sure that no other undiscovered pieces exist,” Klaus persisted, thinking fondly of the intricate, bold work that Bosch had created for him in the late 1400s. He had presented himself as a wealthy duke from England, and spun a thrilling tale for the artist about a man who was turned into a monster only to discover a different sort of beast already dwelled inside of him. As Klaus had predicted, Bosch was intrigued by the story and happily painted the piece for him, never realizing that his work was so much more than mere allegorical myth and superstition.

            Caroline looked at him sharply, pausing in her lecture about late medieval morality and visual interpretations of biblical and folklore metaphors to sigh in aggravation. “If you’re referring to _The Beast of Two Bloods_ , the supposedly lost Bosch painting, it’s nothing more than a silly fantasy. Scholars have searched for years and have yet to find concrete evidence that such a painting ever existed.” She resumed her lecture, pointedly ignoring Klaus’ flirtatious grin. “Now, turning our attention toward _The Garden of Earthly Delights_ , we can see why this piece is arguably Bosch’s most famous work. Even today, musicians, designers, choreographers, authors and other artists derive inspiration from this masterpiece.”

            Klaus was surprised by how reluctant he was to turn his gaze away from the argumentative blonde to focus on the priceless work before them. The depiction of Adam and Eve in bright, cheerful colors was a jarring contrast to the darker color palette the artists typically favored. Even the panel featuring hell and its punishments felt almost hopeful. He could tell from Caroline’s tone that this was a work she was quite fond of, and given the way the light seemed to emanate from her, it made sense that she would be drawn to this piece.

            As he watched the way she beamed at the tour group, talking excitedly with her hands as her blue eyes lit up with wonder, he couldn’t help the slight feeling of melancholy that swept over him as he realized he was looking at a lovely woman that seemed to radiate sunshine and represented all of the things a dark creature like he could never hope to have. Despite his gloomy thoughts, he lingered in the tour group, wanting to bask in her presence as long as possible.

            She was winding down the tour with the final work, _The Temptation of St. Anthony_ , which happened to be Klaus’ favorite piece by Bosch. “This triptych features the four natural elements as the setting of one man’s loneliness as he faces demonic creatures who wish to tempt him into breaking his vows of morality,” she explained fondly. “This marvelous piece sat undiscovered for decades in storage at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art in Missouri before it was successfully authenticated as Bosch’s work. Who knows how many other priceless masterpieces are sitting somewhere undiscovered,” she asked the tour group in a voice full of hope that Klaus found endearing.

            As the tour ended and the other museum guests wandered off, Klaus continued to stand near Caroline, still greedy for her presence. They stood silently in front of Bosch’s work, and while he tried to focus on the brilliant brush strokes of the talented artist, he couldn’t help but watch the stunning beauty out of the corner of his eye as she quietly took in the detailed imagery. He wondered what the charming little museum docent would think if he confessed that he was an immortal creature who actually had met the famous artist and that in addition to painting, his most notable talent had been his ability to tell a spectacular dick joke. He snorted at the thought, imagining the way her eyes would widen as she blushed prettily, and then she would lash out at him with a well-placed barb.

            “I’ve seen a variety of reactions to Bosch’s work over the years, but snorting is a new one,” she wryly observed, turning her inquisitive gaze to him. “Also, I think I’ve earned a proper introduction after you sabotaged my tour, don’t you think? Or, should I keep calling you _Dimpled Art Ruiner_ in my head,” she offered with a cheeky grin.

            “Call me Klaus. And I was merely trying to enlighten you with little-known tidbits to add some spice to your tour, sweetheart,” he answered with a smirk.

            Caroline rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she huffed in annoyance, “Please. Nothing you said enhanced my tour. You just wanted to be a dimpled art ruiner.” She flicked her blue gaze critically over him, seeming to linger a bit too long at his open collar where his tangle of necklaces sat, before she added, “Also, your fumbling attempts to hit on me during my tour cracks my top five in worst skeevy pickup techniques I’ve been subjected to while at work. Congrats.”

            Klaus let out a surprised laugh, finding her boldness refreshing. “Remind me never to introduce you to my younger brother then. You’d find his seduction technique is even more off-putting than mine, sweetheart.”

            She nodded, a fond smile on her face as she commented, “Siblings are a handful, aren’t they? I have eight sisters and it feels like I’m always playing peacemaker or having to go bail them out of whatever trouble they’ve gotten themselves into.”

            His eyes widened in surprise. “They sound like a handful, sweetheart. I have two sisters and three brothers, so I know what you mean about siblings and complicated situations.” He felt a strange calmness settle over him as he continued talking to Caroline, and he was struck by the inexplicable need to open up to her more. He added, “Over the years, it had been my hope that my siblings and I would grow closer, but it seems as though we’re always at odds with each other. Is your family close?”

            Caroline let out a derisive laugh, her blue eyes flashing with momentary sadness as she explained, “My sisters and I are close, but mostly because we bonded over what a philandering piece of shit our father is. Our mother was one of his clueless side pieces and his actual wife is a spiteful lunatic with a flock of codependent peacocks who...” she trailed off, surprise registering on her face as though she didn’t mean to reveal so much of herself to a stranger. Her pink lips settled into a grim smile as she finished with, “Let’s just say my family is needlessly complicated.” She arched an eyebrow, her tone curious as she asked, “What about your parents? Are you close with them?”

            Klaus’ incredulous bark of laughter took them both by surprise as they exchanged commiserating glances. He shook his head and said with a wry grin, “I’m afraid my familial situation also is needlessly complicated, love.”

            She opened her mouth to answer, but seemed to think better of it when her blue eyes narrowed dangerously at the dark-haired man stalking toward them. “Speaking of needlessly complicated,” she muttered under her breath. “What do you want, Enzo,” she asked curtly.

            Klaus noted the sudden coldness in Caroline’s voice and studied the stranger more closely. He didn’t look particularly intimidating — a medium build topped off by thick black hair. However, it was the unusual cunning he caught in the stranger’s dark eyes that gave him pause. “You know why I’m here,” he angrily spat at Caroline, “you ruined everything!”

            Caroline was oddly calm as she faced the man’s rage. “Your client’s inevitable failure is one of your own making, Enzo. I told you that piece of garbage script was _never_ going to be the next _Blazing Saddles_.”

            Before Klaus could do more than raise a questioning eyebrow, Enzo threw a glass vial at Caroline’s feet where it shattered as he began a strange, guttural chanting. A putrid yellow mist rose from the floor, coiling sinisterly around Caroline’s ankles. Alarm briefly registered on her face before it was replaced by fury, and then Klaus realized that her ivory skin was becoming transparent. He reached out to her without thinking, noticing far too late that the same sickly smoke had curled around him as well. Snarling, Klaus tried to lash out at Enzo, but faded too quickly to do any damage as his body succumbed to the spell.

            The Met’s exhibit hall was quickly replaced by an unrecognizable landscape of somber colors dotted with insidious shades of red. As nightmarish creatures flooded his vision, he blinked once, twice, three times to try to make sense of the impossible scene before him.

            “Shit. Not again,” Caroline grumbled, brushing back an errant blonde curl that had escaped from one of her sapphire combs. She glanced at Klaus curiously and asked, “Are you okay? Banishing ingredients can make you dizzy if you aren’t used to them. And I’m pretty sure Enzo used hemlock in that potion. _Bastard_.”

            Klaus shook his head, eyeing Caroline suspiciously. He took an experimental whiff, frustrated that his blonde companion still smelled human, with her signature aroma of golden honey that made his hybrid fangs itch to taste her. “What the hell is going on? Where are we,” he demanded, gray eyes widening in disbelief as a sailboat sprouting an enormous fish head soundlessly floated overhead.  

            Caroline huffed in annoyance as she explained, “Enzo’s an agent who represents mediocre comedic actors and uses black magic to boost their careers.” She shook her head in irritation, adding, “He’s also a dark wizard, so it’s not like he’s bound by a pesky moral code. And it looks like he banished us into Bosch’s _The Temptation of St. Anthony._ ”

Klaus gaped at a pig-snouted nude figure walking past them who was blowing a curved horn. “We’re _in_ the bloody painting?!” His voice became a dangerous growl as he asked accusingly, “Why did he target _you_ , sweetheart? Who are you really?”

            “I told you, I’m Caroline. Also, I’m a museum docent, art lover, Capricorn...” she trailed off with a flirtatious wink.

            He was surprised to find that he wasn’t irritated by her teasing. If anything, he was even more intrigued. Clasping his hands behind his back he asked, “And what _else_ are you, love?” He studied the blonde beauty carefully, adding, “Museum docents typically do not incur the wrath of dark wizards.”

            Caroline seemed to be deep in thought as she stared at the horizon where a series of farm houses were burning while a group of cackling demons flew overhead. “I might also be a muse,” she said offhandedly.

            “A muse,” he asked in confusion, staring at her as though he could ascertain the truth of her outlandish words.

            She rolled her eyes as she told him, “Yeah, a muse. There are nine of us. I’m Calliope, but I changed it to _Caroline_ when I decided I was bored with epic poetry. There’s only so many times you can hear about ‘gray-eyed Athena’ and ‘swift-footed Achilles’,” she confessed with a disinterested shrug. “So, I invented textile painting and over the centuries whenever the mood struck, I’d inspire certain artists to explore their creativity further.”

            She nodded at a large clay wine jug as it skipped by on two horse legs, a note of pride entering her voice as she revealed, “Bosch was one of mine.” At Klaus’ small grunt of surprise she nodded, explaining, “He was my favorite bartender and his tavern wasn’t making any money because the plague kept creeping in and killing off his best customers. So, I threw him a bone and may have _tweaked_ his talent just a bit.”

            Klaus blinked rapidly, trying to assimilate the tremendous amount of information she had told him. “You invented an art medium because you were bored and you turned Bosch into a world-famous artist because he was your favorite bartender,” he stated flatly, still attempting to process her extraordinary tale.

            “Well, that, and the man told hilarious dick jokes,” she quipped, elbowing him in the ribs good-naturedly.

            He chuckled, recalling how he had thought the same thing during her museum tour — back when he had assumed that she was simply a beautiful human who smelled delicious. He braced one hand against the side of the windmill where they were standing, leaning closer to inhale her signature fragrance once more. “Tell me, love, is that why you smell like honey? Because the ancient Greeks used to offer it as part of their sacrifices?”

            Caroline gazed up at him, her pink lips curling in amusement. “Or, it could be my honey-almond shampoo,” she teased. As though a thought suddenly struck her, she lightly smacked his chest, and he couldn’t help but notice the way her warm palm seemed to linger there, lightly caressing his muscles through his black henley. “It seems like I wasn’t the only one hiding a secret, Klaus. I mean, I can sense you’re a talented artist, but I can’t figure out what _else_ you are. No human would be this calm about being sucked into this painting and me being a muse.”

            Klaus smirked as he told her, “Being trapped in here with you isn’t a hardship, sweetheart.” He felt himself flush with pleasure as he replayed her generous words about his skill as an artist. Ducking his head a bit, he shyly revealed, “I sketch or paint sometimes. It’s just a hobby I’ve dabbled in off and on over the years.”

            “It’s more than just a _hobby_. Klaus, you possess an extraordinary gift,” she exclaimed, flashing him a brilliant smile. She shook her head, sending her blonde curls bouncing as she mockingly commanded, “But quit trying to distract me — how come you’re not more freaked out by Enzo’s spell?”

            He shrugged, “I’m a hybrid; well, _the_ Original hybrid that is, and after a thousand years, I’ve had my share of run-ins with those seeking vengeance against me and my family. Not that any posed a significant challenge.”

            “It’s a wonder your ego fit in the museum while you were trying to ruin my tour,” she admonished, rolling her eyes at him.

            “I wasn’t trying to ruin your tour, love,” he began, pausing briefly to admire a giant swan fishing boat as it floated by. “I couldn’t help my curiosity at learning exactly how much you knew of the artist. I happen to have met him during my travels and always was an admirer of his work,” he confessed.

            Caroline’s blue eyes widened and she exclaimed excitedly, “Wait a minute — _you’re_ the mystery guy, aren’t you?! Bosch wouldn’t shut up about you and this crazy myth you told him. You’re the one who commissioned him to paint _The Beast of Two Bloods_! He let me take a glimpse of it one time, but it was only half-finished. No wonder it’s been lost all these centuries — you’ve probably got it squirreled away somewhere!” She crossed her arms in front of her chest in a huff, adding, “When we get out of here, I want to see it. It’s the least you can do, _Dimpled Art Ruiner_.”

            He smiled at her antics, delighting in her commanding tone. “Of course, sweetheart. It would be my pleasure to make amends for my rude ways. But first, we should start figuring out a plan to escape. You indicated earlier that this had happened to you before. How did you —” he abruptly stopped speaking when enormous rats and demonic creatures wearing animal skulls came racing toward them wielding spears and pitchforks.

            He felt his hybrid features emerge at the promise of a good tussle, but Caroline’s terrified scream gave him pause. She took off, racing across the barren hill and dodging peculiar tree root creatures that attempted to grab the frightened blonde. He couldn’t quite grasp the foreign feeling of concern he felt, but he as flashed after her, the urge to protect her was overwhelming. He followed her intoxicating, honeyed scent to an enormous white egg with a crack in its shell. He slipped through the opening, and Caroline threw herself into his arms, trembling in fear as she clung to him.

            Klaus’ voice was muffled against her blonde curls as he spoke in a soothing voice, “It’s alright, love. You’re safe with me.” He blinked in surprise at his words, unsure if he had ever spoken them before. He found that he meant them — she was a beautiful, surprising creature who challenged him and he had no intention of allowing her to be harmed.

            Caroline tensed in his arms and he saw that the nightmarish creatures had discovered their hiding place. A few of the demonic beings whose heads were topped with cow skulls stood outside the giant egg, waiving their weapons menacingly. She stopped trembling and sat up, sighing in irritation as she announced, “Okay guys, fun’s over.” At her command, two of the creatures eagerly poked their heads through the crack in the egg, and Klaus watched in surprise as she patted their bleached-white skulls affectionately.

            As the creatures wandered away, Caroline turned to Klaus, arching an eyebrow as she said, “What? I was the muse that inspired Bosch’s creations; _of course_ I can control them.”

            Klaus shook his head, asking, “Why did you pretend to be frightened and allow those things to chase us if you could control them all this time?”

            Her grin was mischievous as she answered, “You were playing with me at the museum; it was my turn to play with you. Besides, I enjoy being chased.”

            At her unexpected confession, he smirked down at her, the predator within becoming aroused as his eyes flickered with wolf-gold. “And what happens once you’re caught, sweetheart?”

            “Let’s find out,” she said with an impish smile, tugging on his necklaces as she pulled him down for a kiss.

            He chased her pink lips with his own, his hands bunching up the soft blue silk of her dress until it pooled around her waist. The sensual brush of her thighs against his hips sent a shiver down his spine. He flicked open the tiny pearl buttons until he exposed her ivory skin, letting out a strangled grunt as he realized she was completely bare underneath her dress. “You are a goddess, love,” he whispered reverently, kneading her flesh with his skilled fingers as she squirmed pleasurably.

            “Muse, remember? Although I once was worshipped as a goddess,” she confessed breathlessly as she leaned into his touch. At his questioning eyebrow, she explained, “That prestigious order that Bosch and his father belonged to didn’t _actually_ worship the Virgin Mary. They worshipped me,” she finished with a slight flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

            Klaus smirked against her bare belly as he felt it tremble underneath the scratch of his stubble. “Permit me to show you how a true devotee worships,” he purred, sliding his tongue down to her hip where he playfully nipped at her skin. He took her helpless sigh as an invitation, and used both hands to spread her wide, his fiery touch lingering at her damp folds.

            At the first brush of his tongue, he moaned at the warm, honeyed taste of her, digging his fingers into her hips so that he could bring her closer to his greedy mouth. Her strangled shout sent him reeling, and he excitedly swirled his tongue along her core, delighting in the way she desperately rubbed herself against his skin. He could feel her start to tighten, and he tipped her over the edge by sucking on her clit until she shrieked his name.

            Klaus quickly removed his black henley and nearly ruined the zipper of his jeans in his haste to shed his clothes. At Caroline’s amused giggle, he smirked at her, his eyes flaring a lusty gold as he fisted his aching cock. She watched him hungrily, licking her lips as he sped up his seductive movements. He was taken by surprise when she quickly pulled off her wrinkled dress and straddled him, rubbing her soaked core against his burning erection until his vision went white with pleasurable pain.

            “You feel so good,” Caroline purred, her blue eyes dark with lust. “I need you,” she gasped, rocking against him as he pulled her down onto his cock with a groan. He gripped her ass, controlling every sensual push and pull as his thrusts deepened. He lightly smacked both cheeks, the naughty thrill of it causing her to shudder against his sweat-slicked chest.

            She trailed kisses from his collarbone to his neck, pausing to impishly nibble on his earlobe as he moaned her name. He could feel himself getting close, and he increased the power of his strokes, his hips working faster as she writhed above him. He reached between them to find her clit once more, rubbing it until she clenched around his cock with a groan of satisfaction. Feeling her gripping him so tightly triggered his own release, and he slowly rutted his hips as they chased their pleasure together.

            Still panting softly, Caroline sat up, her sapphire combs dangling in her disheveled blonde curls as she leaned forward to give Klaus a quick peck on the lips. “You know, I’ve lived more lifetimes than I can measure, but I honestly can say that banging in a giant egg is a first for me,” she confessed with a giggle.

            Klaus felt his heart give a funny little tweak as he admired the way her laughter seemed to set her whole being aglow. He caressed her cheek, reveling in the velvet feel as he smirked, “It’s a first for me as well, sweetheart. Perhaps we should christen a few other areas of the painting while we’re here?”

            She seemed to consider his offer, but then her blue eyes sparkled with mischief as she countered with, “Or, we could get out of here, grab the ingredients for another banishing spell and christen a few of Picasso’s pieces. I’m partial to _Guernica_ ,” she propositioned him with a wink.

            He couldn’t help the bemused grin that crept across his face as he immediately envisioned all of the delightful fun in store for them. “ _Guernica_ looks like it would be a bit uncomfortable, love — all those edges. However, I’m willing to give it a try if you agree to let his _Three Musicians_ watch. What do you say?”

            “Deal,” Caroline answered enthusiastically, throwing him his clothes as she started getting dressed. As they exited the cracked egg, Caroline seemed to be studying the horizon intently. She must have found what she was looking for, because she tugged at Klaus’ hand, walking briskly past a red-cloaked man with a deer’s head, who waved at the couple cheerfully before returning to his conversation with a priest.

            “So, how do we escape,” Klaus asked her curiously.

            She shrugged, explaining, “A few decades ago, I added a portal into every piece of artwork that I ever inspired just in case I needed to stage another jailbreak.” She rolled her eyes, adding, “I learned that lesson the hard way after I got trapped in Warhol’s stupid soup can by a vindictive warlock who was mad that the variety show he and his insipid television siblings were on tanked worse than their ridiculous Christmas special.”

            Klaus chuckled, delighted by every fascinating layer she revealed to him. He watched as she knelt down beside a floating blue wheel and held her palm against the center until light from the outside started to filter into the painting.

            She bit her lip, her voice calculating as she warned him, “There’s a slight possibility that Enzo is still out there, watching to see if we try to escape.”

            Klaus confidently took her hand, telling her, “Then let’s go make a dark wizard bleed, sweetheart.”

            Caroline answered with a coy smile, “You know, I’ve been searching for a new medium to inspire artists...”


End file.
